It's Flamable
by VirTaAshi
Summary: When older past characters meet some of the next generation, things might take a turn to insanity. Rated T for language and political incorrectness. Now Back in Action.
1. Prelude

**Prelude**

"Absence from those we love is self from self – a Deadly Banishment."- Shakespeare

"I have not yet begun to fight!" – John Paul Jones

"Everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough."- George Bernard Shaw

It was when it all began, well most of the more traumatic madness. From the moment that strange, frightening man had been going through the medicine cabinet to that conversation with your parents about them thinking that you're the insane one and the fact that they're sending you to the happy farm.

Well, from the aliens to the chihuahua that mauled one of the few friends you had in this world to that killer dust mite, your off-his-knocker cyborg grandfather that believes in eating the first born, meeting your future self and watching his spine melt and then there is your best friend, the Anti-Christ.

Ahh, the good life. You're probably thinking that your life couldn't get anymore miserable. The things that drive you crazy couldn't get any worse than they already are. Well guess what buddy…

They just did.


	2. Chapter 1:  Already Down The Rabbit Hole

**Chapter 1**

Already Down the Rabbit Hole

Smoke billowed from the chimney of house number 666 as rain drops fell from the dark gray sky. Those who didn't know the family that lived in this house would wonder if it was even physically possible for the smoke to exist during the rain storm.

It was dark inside, with the only real light coming from the Basement. There was only one person here at the moment, inside the living room.

The living room was furnished with a lazy boy chair with its back facing a window and next to it was a forest green couch. The person here was lazing in the dark. He was laid back on the couch, his black hair was without its ponytail, so it ran down his back. His horns, though not large enough to be considered a devil's spawn, but big enough to be known as a figure of authority among the lower demons and the damned.

Pepito had changed considerably over the years. Like his father had explained, demonic good looks don't come in until puberty. He is about the most handsome person at his school. Well, he was.

The ringing of the doorbell and the cackle of thunder in the sky interrupted the prince of darkness's thoughts and moments of solitude. Mom was out, and Father was working. But, he could bet who it was, and he almost prayed that it wasn't who he thought it was. Almost.

The doorbell continued to ring, followed by the occasional knocking as Pepito walked to the door. Opening it up revealed the person he had hoped would've been sound asleep in his own bedroom. The rain had soaked his clothing.

The teenager standing before the Anti-Christ still wore the clothing that he had not only been wearing today, but yesterday. The pitch black torso with the black and white striped sleeves ripped until it reached right above his elbow, the pants with the rolled up legs, and finally his split toed boots. He even had his backpack draped on his thin shoulders.

Squee had been his best friend since they first met at the age of seven, back when Pepito was temper prone and his little friend about near lost his skin with anything. Now, at the age of sixteen, things had changed. Little Squee had long lost his frightened childhood just as Pepito lost his seriousness.

"Dude," the dark prince said in his Mexican accent, "They kicked you out again?"

Lightning flashed as the sickly looking teen answered.

"They didn't even let me in," he replied causally, "and God, man, stop with the fake accent."

Pepito huffed as he stepped aside, letting the nearly walking skeleton in, his boots squishing as he walked. Squee walked up the stairs, to Pepito's bedroom. There are a lot of times were Squee's parents would either kicked him out or refused to let him in, and during those many times, he often came to Pepito's. He had a sleeping bag in the bedroom, and often the stuff he could salvage from his own room.

"Need a towel man?" yelled the devil's spawn up the stairs. The thump of a backpack hitting the floor was heard.

"Sure," said a muffled voice above the ceiling. It didn't take long to find the towels, only a few times of accidently walking into the Basement. Squee came back down, rubbing his hands up and down his arms and shivering. He walked to the door to the Basement.

As he opened the door, screams of pain and of the damned surged through. Fire, spikes, skulls, anything that deals in conflicting pain and torture happened in this room. Diablo loved to bring work with home with him.

Squee stretched his hands over the fire and the flames, they were considerably better heaters than anything humans' made. It was nice having something good come out of pain. Pepito came back and toppled a long, thick, red towel on him. It seemed to be slightly wet and not fazed by the hellish heat.

"Why's the towel wet? And in this heat?"

"Let's say dad didn't exactly take well to the news and…"

"Holy water?"

"Holy water."

Squee hadn't the chance to relay the bad news, fun fact that school didn't call their parents and give the children the embarrassment with normal, angry parents standing at the door, waiting. Oh no, the students had to tell their parents and expect nothing from the school except their files and teachers that won't hesitate to call the police and the Mad House for Boys.

Squee let the towel slip off his shoulders. They were thin, bony like the rest of his body. A sickly, depressing figure, it's amazing that he can even pick up anything.

That didn't matter now, he wouldn't have to see that fuckin' school again. Maybe he'd drop out of the educational system, he could go far away.

Maybe find Him. Where ever He is at.

Squee sighed and left the Basement's doorway. Pepito followed, closing the door and taking the fallen towel up. The thin teenager started up the stairs, his boots make clicks against the floor boards.

"I'm going to bed," he yelled down the stairs as he reached the bedroom at top. The door creaked as Squee opened it and walked inside without a second thought.

The room was surprisingly blue, considering it was the bedroom to the antichrist. The walls around the flamed designed bed near the window was nearly covered with posters of heavy metal bands, frightening designs of different kinds of demons and devils, and various other images that dealt in pain, burning and fire. Squee rather liked them considering.

His 'bed', or rather sleeping bag, was on the opposing side of the room to Pepito's. It was a worn out, black thing, reminding Squee of a cocoon even if it did have different color and designed hole patches. He threw his damp backpack at the wall, on impact it made a sickening squish.

Not bothering to remove anything, even his boots, the teen laid down on the make shift. With his hands behind his head, Squee stared at the ceiling and listened to the thumping sounds of someone coming up starts.

"Do you even bother shutting the door? Or picking up your towel?" asked an irritated Pepito, finally losing his fake accent for the night. Thunder clapped outside. Squee sighed, and didn't bother to face or given any seeable attention.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

The Devil-Spawn jumped onto his bed, which looked like he was diving straight into a 2-d fire pit. He mimicked Squee's position, hands behind his head and looking at the ceiling.

"So, you know where our new school is?" asked Squee, not moving from his position.

"Yeah man," replied Pepito, "Why on earth would a school actually prepare to transfer you?"

"The school systems' fucked dude," said Squee, "I mean, it seems that schools truly make sure that you're the same water head who was shoved into 'pre-school' that graduates. Seriously, in some place there are ACTUALLY have entrance exams for KINDERGARDEN! Geez, five year olds are still trying to find their thingys for FUCK's sake, and their bombarding them with such PATHETIC SHIT! Hell, Isn't that just another kind of VERBAL ABUSE! And speaking of kids, WHAT THE FUCK! You think adults are bad, but FUCK'IN A their little FUCK SPAWNS are worse than they are! IGNORANT LITTLE SHITS! DAMN IT, THE WORLD IS FULL OF RETARDED FUCK MONKEYS! –"

Squee was rambling again. He didn't exactly know when he really started ranting off about things that pissed him off, but he has a theory that it was one of the few things his dear next door neighbor left. Where ever he's at.

Finally, he let out a deep breath, finishing his angry yellings. Pepito remained silent. To Squee, silence was more dangerous than anything his Neighbor did or anything he himself yelled out.

"I hate it when you make sense…" Pepito sighed, and Squee gave a small one-noised laugh. The rain pattered against the window. For the first years of their friendship, it was Squee that agreed with most things Pepito said. In those times, Squee was the frightened little 7 year old, clutching that creepy teddy bear and jumping at nearly everything.

Now, he's different. Squee guessed that it really started showing after getting out of the Head Meat Mad House, he didn't notice major personilty change until he hit puberty. Around when he let that cat on fire, and, rather than screaming, he was laughing maniacally. Dearest Shmee had stopped talking years before that.

The slight snoring said that Pepito had fallen asleep. Lucky bastard, Squee hasn't had a good night's sleep for a week now. Perhaps that's what led up to the little school incident. Well, maybe not 'little'.

With his damp clothing, his squishing boots, and the generally uncomfortable floor, Squee closed his eyes.

And prepared for the nightmares.


	3. Chapter 2: Run with Gazoline

Chapter 2

A Run with Gazoline

The morning had come fast. With a quick, or rather no, breakfast and the usual morning rituals, Squee and Pepito were off to their new school. The antichrist had the instructions to get there luckily, but with neither Senor Diablo nor Pepito's mother around, the two unusual teenagers had to walk to their new educationally assigned building.

Pepito, for today's wear, had the usual teenage baggy pants with three belts holding the oversized wear tightly to his body. His trade mark red hoody, almost matching the color of that strange devil poster hanging on the ceiling above his bed. His long black hair now in a tightly made ponytail and he wore a predictability red backpack.

Squee was wearing his clothes from yesterday, though now they were a bit dryer. Pepito had stopped giving him fits about wearing the same clothing more than once. Squee guessed Senor Diablo wanted Pepito to look good on Dooms Day and there for pounded fashion into his thick head.

The sidewalks were cracked and uncared for, the houses weren't much to look at either as the boys past them. Squee kept his head down the entire time, listening to the cars passing as He and the devil spawn walked to their destination.

Pepito had switched back to talking in a Mexican Accent for the day. He sounded more, human wasn't the right word, normal. Pepito's true voice was raspy, deep and darkly. The kind of thing that sends chills up your spine.

Squee's thoughts were interrupted by Pepito jabbing him with his elbow. The walking skeleton looked up at the devil spawn with an irritated expression.

"Look man," Pepito said, pointing out to the road to a further direction. In the road was a squirrel, but that wasn't what was of interest as Squee spotted what Pepito was gesturing to. It was a boy, or rather another teenager. He was crouched in the middle of the road.

This weirdo staring at the squirrel had curly red hair, puffed on his pale head. He wore colors that were coming of children, not young adults, like that blue and white stripped shirt of his. He was looking at the squirrel with such an excited expression, it was creepy.

Pepito laughed softly and maliciously as the horn of a large country crossing truck sounded. If the idiot in the road didn't move, he'd give the street a new paint job.

"Oh well," Pepito said, smiling cruelly, "Woe to the squirrel boy."

Squee stood in a straighter position. The person in the road was being retarded, but maybe that squirrel was his pet. Maybe something he cared for a lot and couldn't stand letting it go and there for followed it everywhere. It was freakish and strange thought, but it seemed so unfair to Squee.

At a moment's notice, Squee ran for the teen in the road. His speed uncanny for someone so malnutritioned.

"Squee? Wait! Where are you going!" Pepito yelled in surprise as he processed just what exactly his human friend was going to do. Squee ignored his pleas.

The truck was coming up fast, practically 3 feet next to Squee, it even seemed like the fuck in the road would get Squee and himself killed. At the last minute, Squee grabbed hold of the boy's collar and pitched forward, scaring the squirrel off and possibly the truck driver if he was paying attention.

"Wait Zim!" The red head yelled, not really noticing that he was being carried by a guy who hadn't slept well in weeks. Squee's life didn't flash before his eyes, but a thought did, _He named his pet Zim?_

Both of them made across the road, daringly escaping the truck's wheels and grill. The squirrel was no where to be found, and the squirrel boy was on hands and knees due to Squee dropping him on the ground. Squee himself felt his adrenaline fade and attempted to think that maybe eating less wasn't a good idea anymore.

The squirrel person turned to face his 'hero', but the first thing Squee noticed was the guy's eyes. They were a bright, mechanical red, something too unnatural to be born with. Other than that he had regular features, the pimples of a regular teenager, the messy hair. But the childish smile that came to this guy's face made Squee think about whether saving him was a good idea to begin with.

"You saved my life!" the teen said with such an emotion of happy that his brain might combust. With Squee's luck that might happen, hopefully. The red head, red eyed person stood up at such speed that Squee didn't know what was going on until he found himself being hugged by the boy he had unfortunately saved.

Squee's skin started to crawl, and he stiffened. Human contact, it was disgusting. He hated being touched, and this 'child' was no exception. Pepito ran across the road when it seemed safe enough, and was almost laughing at Squee's embarrassing scene.

The kid hugging Squee finally got off, looking at Pepito's slowing turning red face.

"This guy saved my life!" he exclaimed, way too happy to be sane. Pepito bursted with laughter as the red head pulled Squee in for another hug. Losing embarrassment, Squee broke from the guy's grasp, nearly steaming from anger.

"Look dude," he said, not making total sense, "Be 'happy' all you want, just don't touch me."

The boy nodded insanely, but that oblivious smile remained on his teenage face.

"I'm Keef!" he said, possibly ignoring what his 'savior' just said, "What's your name?"

"Squee," Squee replied, sighing once again at the eternal stupidity of human kind. He spun around on his heel and start walking, again with his head down, "Come on, Pepito."

The antichrist was attempting to suppress laughter as he caught up with his skeleton of a friend. Keef waved at them, hopping up and down.

"I'll see you later, New Best Friend!"

Squee let out such an aggravated yell that the birds from nearby trees flew into the air in fear.

The new high school seemed broken down, perfectly fitting the red and polluted skies behind it. There was only a few minutes before the bell, and Squee and Pepito bolted into the school and down the halls.

"Where's our class?" Squee said, running more swiftly than the antichrist.

"I don't know," Said Pepito, quickly running out of breath. Squee's anger flared.

"You don't know where our class is?"

"Hey we're LUCKY enough that we EVEN got here!"

The bickering in the hall caught the attention of someone they might regret. The yelling had terribly distracted the girl from her game, causing her game character to lose a life. Her teeth clenched, she shut off the Game Slave and put it in the pocket of her gray hoody, and it didn't take long to find the source of the noise.

Squee and Pepito had stopped in the middle of the hall, arguing and yelling profanities at each other. It all came to an abrupt stop when someone screamed louder than they were.

"HEY DICK HEADS!"

In the next instant, as both of the male teens turned to look who had shouted, a large purple bag, decorated with small pink piggies, hit Pepito dead in the face. He back into the lockers behind him and slid to the floor. Having seen the entire thing, Squee's surprise was stuck to his face as he turned to face the assailant.

But there wasn't a need to go searching, SHE was already here.

The next thing Squee remembered was being held by the collar of his shirt to the face of a girl roughly two years younger than he was.

He couldn't see her eyes, they were squinted, or they were closed, he couldn't tell. Her skin was a bright pale, unlike Squee's sickly skin. Her hair was purple, and more than that, it was shaped like a fang-filled jaw.

"You interrupted my game," she said in a dangerously low tone.

Squee wasn't afraid. How couldn't he though? For years he has been afraid of everything, he guessed it had been completely drained out of him. But that didn't stop the emotions of 'surprise' and 'awe' he felt for this frightening girl.

The next thing he felt was the pain of his face being smashed into the floor. The girl was damn strong, for someone so weak looking. It took Squee a bit to pull his face from the checked, cement floor. He was lucky that he didn't have a bloody nose from the experience, but he was pretty sure that he got a black eye or something like that. The girl, and the bag that had smacked Pepito dead in the face for that matter, was gone.

Getting up, Squee brushed off the dust and dirt from the floor. He kicked the Antichrist's leg, stirring him from the floor. He lifted his torso, holding the back of his head.

"Man, that hurt," he complained, rubbing his head and checking if his horns were still in one place. Pepito used the lockers to stand, acting weak in the legs.

"Don't start," Squee said bored, "Let's just find the office and get to class, I'm pretty sure we still have enough time-"

The bell rang.

"FUCK!"


	4. Chapter 3: Ding Dong, Which Old Witch?

**Chapter 3**

**Ding Dong, Which old Witch?**

It had only taken a moment to find the office and figure out where their class was, as well as get tardy passes. I appeared that the class had the same boring blue door like any other door of the building. It was surrounded by blue lockers.

Their main class was run by a woman named Ms. Ding. She had the two teens wait outside for some stupid dramatic effect. Squee thought it was retarded, but arguing with a woman that had a psychotic smile and a crazy look in her eye probably isn't a good idea. So, like he did in the past with other crazies, he kept his mouth shut and his head down.

Pepito and Squee were sitting out in the hall up against the lockers, Pepito listening to a muffled speech that Ms. Ding was giving in the class. Something about accepting new things or what not. Squee was looking at the floor and its ugly checker design, now that he thought about it.

_**Burn it.**_

That thought had come from no where, and he wasn't sure really if it was his, but it felt good. He imagined the building in flames. The glorious smell of burning wood, the sight of flicker flames, the blaze of the sky as the building light up and perhaps the smell of burning flesh as people in the building burned to death.

_**Burn it all.**_

"Squee?" Pepito asked for the second time. Squee snapped out of the fantasy he was having. Pepito was looking at him funny, with eyes wide and kind of backed away. _Oh, he's freaked out_.

"You had that loony look again," he said cautiously. Squee's bone thin cheeks hurt, he deduced that he'd been smiling unconsciously too. "I don't get it! How come your obsession gets you everywhere but MY house, you actually act bored with the Basement and yet you still zone out with your fire induced imagination outside of it!"

"Eh," Squee shrugged. It's true, he had been diagnosed with 'unofficial' pyromania. It seemed to come to him, a lighted match was better than any blade he could come across. Squee had distaste for such objects, they gave him shivers just looking at them.

The door open, and out came a pale woman with her light brown hair in a bun and a Victorian style maroon dress. With that smile plastered on her face.

"Alright boys," Ms. Ding said happily. The antichrist and the bag-o-bones came up from their positions and walked in the room.

Like any high school classroom, it was filled with teenagers, texting on their phones, talking, and the general misbehavior. One face, however, stuck from the crowd of jabbering teens. A red head, red eyed person.

_Oh god…_

The look that came on Keef's face would probably cause the ultimate down fall of Squee's day. The boy was staring at him with full excitement, and Squee already felt sick to his stomach. It's a bit too late to walk out and skip out.

"Alright class," Ms. Ding walked in, and the class fell silent immediately. Usually, most teenagers wouldn't really follow silence suddenly, and Squee was partially worried about that. Maybe this teacher would be worse than he thought. Some of the students were even forcing smiles. "These are your new classmates!"

The eerie moment that came said that Squee and Pepito introduce themselves. Pepito had no problem with being stared at intently, but Squee wasn't used to so much attention. In fact, he might do anything just to get away from them all.

"I am Pepito, Pepy to the ladies," the Demon Spawn's eye brows bounced, and you could hear the giggles and sighs coming from some of the air headed females. Squee felt disgusted with the idiots that littered the class.

"What's with the horns?" someone in the back said, but unlike what was expected, no laughter from the class. They looked uncomfortable, which is unusual for teens of either gender.

"Now now," Ms. Ding said, smiling, "Lets not judge a book by its cover."

It was Squee's turn. He didn't like the fact that he was center of attention, or the fact that Keef and Ms. Ding were smiling insanely at him. He swallowed a lump in his throat and introduced himself.

"Call me Squee," he said, and some of the class was giving him looks, like they were going to bust a gut. Ms. Ding, coming from the close class door, came up next to Squee, and he could practically smell the insanity radiating from this woman.

"Alright students," she said excited, "Mr. Pepito you can take that seat." She pointed at seat on the far right in the front, and it was surrounded by blonds, particularly girls. The antichrist might've actually flew there if he wasn't around so many humans, he really only levitated in front of Squee.

"And Squee you can take that one," Ms. Ding point to an empty desk in on of the middle rows on the far left. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but it was in front of Keef. Can the day get worse?

"Umm," Squee was thinking about maybe convincing his teach to reassign he sit, however it went unvoiced as the teacher placed her delicate smooth hands on Squee's thin and bony shoulders and 'led' him to his seat.

"Don't be shy Squee," she said, Smiling, "Everyone can get nervous, all you have to do is take it slowly."

And she said this while she was 'leading' him to his desk. Fucking hypocrite. She stopped 'leading' him when they got to his new desk. He sighed and sat down, dropping his backpack under his desk.

"We'll assign you two lockers later, won't we class?" Ms. Ding said.

"Yes Ms. Ding," the class said in unison, and Squee nearly prayed that this teacher wasn't like the teacher he had in second grade. Memories of that old crone and the zombie children couldn't have come at a worse time.

"Hi there good buddy!" An excited whisper came to Squee from Keef. The red head didn't seem the regular zombie type, more like the obsessive type. Squee is probably going to deal with him for the rest of his school life, hopefully he died like any other 'normal' friend of Squee. But that's the good scenario.

Class did start normally, but the students were unusually quiet and obedient. Text book were pulled on desk and turned to something-something page number. It was about the pilgrims and the sailing to America. Ms. Ding was preaching something about it on the board.

But Squee noticed something aerie. The book, and Ms. Ding for that matter, said the pilgrims came to America in 1602, they actually came in 1620. A Typo. Deja vu.

Squee raised his skinny hand in the air. Ms. Ding spotted his need for attention, and called him, with that smile…

"Yes Squee?"

"Ma'am," he began, "The pilgrims came to America in 1620, not 1602."

Ms. Ding stopped. Some the students were giving Squee angry and frightened looks. Pepito looked around and then at Squee, giving him an 'I don't know what's going on' look. The teacher was still smiling, but she was shaking. Like she was having a complete break down. This became quickly apparent when she started making a sharp whine sound.

_Maybe the zombie kids weren't as bad as I thought…_ Squee was starting to realize some of the 'unseeable' problems on his new teacher.

"Alright, Alright! I'm Sorry!" He said, and sighed, "Please continue with the lesson…"

"Alrighty Then! Now…" the teacher's mood had suddenly switched back to being unnaturally happy and joyous, with that damn smile. _Next time, I'm keeping my fuckin' mouth shut…_

The rest of the class went uninterrupted, beside the wads of paper and spit balls that kept being thrown at Squee, and the fact that Keef kept bugging the crap out of him. Squee found solace in the thought of burning every single one of them. The bell rang, and each of the students rushed out of the class room.

Pepito and Squee walked down the hall, around them were various peers. Cheerleaders, jockeys, geeks, wimps, freaks, losers, chess players, hippies, you name it.

Sadly, Pepito wouldn't be accompanying Squee for his next couple of classes.

Next up was Mr. Kite

Then Mr. Hind.

Lastly, before lunch, was Professor Jacklin.

Yeah, the day was going turn just perfect…


	5. Chapter 4: A Beating Mind

**Chapter 4**

**A Beating Mind**

Squee walked, for the first time in a while, happily, to lunch. He hadn't really realized that watching a guy's face melt off was that enjoyable. He didn't even get in trouble for laughing insanely in front of the entire class either. He was starting to like this new school after all.

The cafeteria was huge considering it had only one lunch line for the hundreds of teens that littered the school property. The floors were a dirty blue and white checks, the tables had gum stuck under them, the small windows on the far wall let in a horrible and ugly red toned sky, so in other words, a normal lunch room. And it was over crowded to add, Squee had to practically jump over people to actually get into the room.

The first things first, find Pepito. They had the same lunch period, so he should be… There. The antichrist was waving at Squee to come over to one of the many lunch tables. It would've been better if it was the one closest to the corner.

With out lunch, Squee sat down with his friend, who had already gotten a tray full of… what ever it was, it didn't seemed edible. Then Squee noticed that Pepito's backpack was nearly full, and it wasn't books.

"Souls already?" Squee asked.

"Yep," Pepito replied, smiling evilly, "Man, the girls here are too easy."

Pepito's sharp eyes then trained on something far off, and Squee knew that look. The target this time was a younger class teen with a game slave on the other side of the room.

"Dude, I wouldn't," Squee warned.

"Why? She looks bait'n man."

"'Cause she's the chick who kicked our asses," Squee said a-matter-a-factly. Pepito rolled his eyes.

"Pfft, whatever," and Pepito got up, leaving his bag and his tray behind, and walk 'cool' to the girl, leaving bunch of giggles and sighs from the other females from the tables he passed.

Squee stopped paying attention after that, but the day got better and better.

"Hi Good buddy!"

Awe Fuck.

Squee looked up, slowly and glaring to the teen that appeared on the other side of the table. The boy with the puffy red hair, and the mechanical red eyes. Keef.

"Are you new here?" He asked a stupid question too, considering that Keef was there when Squee first came to class. Squee pocked and prodded the mush that was lunch with a black fork. He thought about using it to jab out Keef's eyes… Squee shook his head, these thoughts weren't entirely called for.

"So you've been here?" Keef asked, snapping Squee out of his thoughts.

"What? No!" Squee said indignant.

"Why did you shake your head?"

"Shut up, you talk too much."

The conversation might've continued if Squee hadn't felt tapping on his shoulder. He jerked to the cause, hating the touch and fuming at another asshole disturbing… Uh… The girl with the purple, jaw shaped hair was here. Squee got a good look at her this time, an over sized gray hoody covering a black dress of sorts, striped stockings and over sized boots. It was difficult reading her expression.

"Is this yours?" she asked, in a bored tone. She held up a beaten down Pepito by the hood, he had a black eye, a swollen cheek, and he breathed like someone had been jump roping with his lungs.

"Yeah," Squee sighed. The girl dropped the antichrist, and he stayed on the ground.

"Fuckin'…Bitch…" Pepito wheezed and mumbled as he swallowed gulps of air. The girl began walking away. In a sudden compulsion, like time had froze momentarily, Squee had a strange attraction. This is the second time today that he had met this girl, and he had long learned that there's no such thing as coincidence.

"Wait a minute," Squee called out, standing up. The girl turned towards him, making him double think about this. "What's your name?"

"Gaz," She replied, walking back to her seat and bringing out her Game Slave. Gaz was different from other girls, she didn't have that quirk or spunk that so many preppies had. It was a certain aura that lured Squee, and maybe first impressions don't count for this moment.

"Pepy!" Squee heard several shrieks and a cloud of shadow blocked the cafeteria's dim light. Fan girls. Squee would never get used to this. The last school was just as bad, girls, both with and without souls, often swarmed the devil spawn. He was a practical bachelor, while Squee was that background guy who was always in a corner. He hated those air heads, how they think that make up would make boys flock to them, how they insult and destroy other girls for little things even if the poor things didn't start it, oh how he fumed. One of the girls made a sound.

"Who are these losers?" One said, and Squee looked at the commenter. A tall girl with red lipstick, squinted eyes, and long blond hair. She apparently was the leader here, Squee could tell by the overdosed perfume.

"This is my Best Buddy!" Keef exclaimed. Shit. Squee had forgotten about him. The leader scoffed.

"What a perfect couple," She said sarcastically, "A squirrel brain and a noodle boy."

Noodle boy? What? Squee hadn't been called that before, but something nagged at him at the back of his mind.

"I mean, you two are so wacky."

Wacky. The nagging was turning into a headache. Something seemed to be clawing at the deep of his mind, something was coming and Squee started hearing a familiar voice in the background of the Lunchroom chatter, it was speaking to him but he couldn't understand what it was saying.

"You both are so faggots," The leader finished turning back to Pepito, who was being swarmed by the other popular girls like bees to a hive.

Faggots. Wacky. Noodle Boy. Squee heard something snapped, and the world became muffled, but he heard the back ground voice quite clearly now. It was like his mind was doing an audio playback.

_**You can't Imagine the things I've Endured!**_

Squee grabbed the blond chick's arm, holding in a tight, firm grasp. The girl struggled.

_**And ALL AT THE HANDS OF SHIT LIKE YOU!**_

"Let go! Let me Go you Freak!" She yelled, clawing at the boney hand, "Let Go! Let me Go!"

Squee heard her, he heard her cries. The fork in his other hand was right in striking position. He could pierce her lungs at this level. He pulled her towards him, and stabbed the fork.

Something went wrong. The next thing Squee knew, he was on the ground with his chest hurting. A new, large person had come by. This large teen was bulked to body builder status, he was bald, had small eyes and a massive under bite. The name 'TORQUE" was printed on his white sleeveless shirt.

Another thing landed on Squee, and he felt stupid for not seeing the red hoody. As if Pepito hadn't had enough, he was now sprawled over Squee. Squee shoved him off, and the antichrist lay right next to him.

"Well fuck…" Squee muttered.

"You… shouldn't have… lost it," Pepito said, still wheezing.

"Shut… Up."

The bulking teen, Torque apparently, stomped up and towered over them. His face looks like an ass, Squee thought. In the next few moments, both the skeleton and the half-devil were being used to wipe the tables before finally being slammed into and held up again the wall. Apparently, no teachers were paying attention, if there were any, and all the students and peers were watching in awed silence. Squee's mind started another playback.

**_Well, I don't want you to think that this piece of shit is anything other than a pathetic human defect._**

Torque, holding them by the shirts, pulled from the wall, just to slam them into it again.

"Aggh!" Squee yelled.

"Ophf!" barged Pepito. Squee was mentally giving Pepito the finger, right about now.

**_Not a monster, not a bogeyman…_**

Another slam.

"I fucking…Hate … You."

"You're… the one…. Trying to… kill his girl."

Another slam. Squee felt his head spinning.

"You womanizing-"

Another slam and Squee was pretty sure that he heard something crack that time. The playback in his head continued.

_**Not worth devoting any nightmares to.**_

"Fuck y-"

Another slam.

Squee's eyes started to fill with black spots, and his world became deaf again. He said something, but he didn't realize that he had spoken nor heard what he had sounded. Time slowed down once again, Squee became limp. He started going numb, and his head lazily turned to Pepito, who was panicking or saying something.

He guessed it didn't much matter. All Squee wanted was to lie on the ground and sleep. But not even that desire or care mattered after higher brain functions shut down and his consciousness flowed away.

**-777-**

If Squee was dreaming, it sure as hell didn't feel like it. In fact, he wasn't quite sure if he had even woken up to being with. Just after the darkness claimed him, he was here. If 'here' was the right word for it. God, he felt like Alice in Wonderland…

The nowhere quickly changed, and he was in his bedroom at his house. However, instead of the old, bluish gray floorboards and walls, it was a bright orangish yellow. Kind of like the neighbor's house…

His bed was here, but the posters were missing. The desk was next to the wall, but black pages littered it. It was different, maybe he wasn't in his room after all.

"Hiya Todd."

A friendly, but almost smug, voice filled the room. It didn't echo, but it was a bit loud for Squee's taste. And calling him by his actually name, that was another of the many ways to piss Squee off.

Suddenly, like someone flicking a switch, a person stood in front of Squee, looking down on him. Squee couldn't see it because of the light, if he knew where the light was coming from anyway.

"Need a hand?" The figure held out a hand. Already angry as it is, Squee brushed it away. He attempted to get up from the floor, and found that his legs couldn't hold him. The person-figure quickly came to his side and lifted him up. His legs gaining strength once again, Squee stumbled away before looking at the figure. His eyes widened.

"What? I don't look like a ghost do I?"

_More like a reflection, kind of_, thought Squee.

The figure looked almost exactly like Squee himself. If Squee was healthier, and wore more common clothing, and had shorter hair like a child Squee would have. This Squee had healthy skin and wasn't so bony or scrawny. This Squee's hair was shorter, like in Squee's childhood. This Squee didn't have sunken, hollow eyes, or skeletal cheeks. This Squee wore a red shirt, with a gray smiley face, with not-ripped-up stripped, long sleeves. This Squee wore black shorts and long black socks, contrary to actual Squee's black, rolled up pants. This Squee had clean clothing, not daily reused like original Squee.

"Holy Fuck."

"Such language," the mirror Squee said, "You never cursed before."

"I wasn't staring at myself before!"

"Yelling, losing tempers, jeez, what happened to ya?"

"Life did, Jackass."

"Rude too."

"How about you suck my-"

"And with no originality," Mirror Squee rolled his eyes, "Todd, when on earth did you change? What happened to dear old scared Squee?"

"Don't call me Todd," Squee growled. Mirror Squee sighed, muttering something about 'old times' and 'fear'. Squee didn't give a damn, he wanted out of here. This fucker was pissing him off.

"Where am I?" He reluctantly asked, Other Squee smiled and broadened his arms like a salesman trying to show customers exciting products.

"This, old friend, is your sub-conscious!" He said, grinning teeth, "Or what you made of it when you passed out. The way you conjured this was amazing, if not a little surprising. But I'm dis tasted for it, and this only proves your problem."

"What fucking problem? I have thousands of fucking problems you douche!" Squee yelled, his rage flaring.

"Temper, temper," Other Squee wagged his finger in Squee's face, "Tell me, do you know what this reminds you off?"

"My room," Squee said monotone.

"I guess it does," Other Squee said tapping his chin and thinking, "But that's not the point! What's the other thing that this place reminds you of?"

"Uhh, Johnny's?"

"Exactly!" Other Squee snapped his fingers in triumph, "You, quite sadly, are heading down the same road he did. It isn't surprising, after all the trauma you've endured lately."

"What fucking trauma!" Squee yelled, "I've had fucking trauma every day!"

"Getting your ass kicked twice in one day, freaking out a psychotic teacher, going to a new school, that 'Fire' incident at your last school," Other Squee named, boredly.

"Hey, that wasn't my fault!"

"Quote "I'll burn you all, you mother-fucking-bitch-shits" unquote," Other Squee said, not impressed, "I'm pretty sure that sounds like your fault."

"Well so what?" Squee replied, "That's normal."

"Sure its normal, trying to stake everyone, saving a neurotic kid, getting your ass handed to you by a freshmen," Other Squee said sarcastically, "that all normal, ain't it?"

"Shut up," Squee said, tiredly, "And how the hell do I get out of here?"

"You'll wake up," Other Squee said, "But you really are better off staying in your coma, you'd cause less damage that way."

"Fuck you."

"More language," Other Squee said, "You sound more like Nny every second."

"How the fuck would you know him?"

"Simple," Other Squee said smugly, "I am you, so to speak."

"Never knew me to be so annoying," Squee said as he walked around, "Where's the door?"

"There ain't one," Other Squee replied, "This is your sub-conscious."

"Well, how do I change it? Or at least shut you up."

"I wouldn't expect you doing anything with that condition you have."

"I swear to God-"

"I mean your physical condition, so to speak." A mirror immediately appeared before Squee. He didn't expect what he saw, how could he? It's not like he could feel anything but emotion in here. No feeling on the skin, no warmth. Not really anything at all.

The reflection showed him of course, but bloody. Blood streamed from his forehead, from his nose, from his eyes, his mouth, staining his clothes and pouring on the floor. You'd think he would've noticed that. This was proven when he looked over himself, stained and bloody alright.

"See?" Other Squee said, leaning on the mirror, "No condition to do anything. I'd be prepared for it, you'll be feeling like that for who knows how long pretty soon."

The mirror disappeared, and Other Squee came up to Squee. He patted his shoulder, looking prideful and easy going. Like it was all a joke or something amusing.

"Well, I probably should explain, I don't want to be like them after all," He sighed, like all the fun was ruined and it was time to move on, "Something is growing Squee, and the moment it awakes will be when your time comes. Like Johnny's did, though his didn't really 'manifest' like yours will. It is-"

Squee started to become dizzy, swaying back and forth. He didn't understand, it was like something was pulling him away. Other Squee stopped, noticing the sudden change and Squee's drunk like aptitude.

"Hey, hey hey hey," Other Squee said in panic, "Don't you start off now, it's rude to leave during a conversation."

"I can't… Help it," that was the last thing Squee said before he disappeared from the room entirely.

"God damn it," Other Squee said, kicking up air with one foot.


	6. Chapter 5: Follow the Rabbit

**Chapter 5 – Follow the Rabbit**

Squee awoke to a green, hospital like room in an incredibly uncomfortable bed with a green sheet draped over him. His head hammered as he sat up, and quickly realizing the pressure was from a bandage that was draped around his forehead and back. Pepito was in the bed next to him, looking at Squee with a concerned look.

"You realize you talk in your sleep right?" Pepito said, still managing the Mexican accent.

"Stop it," Squee said, irritated and tired, "You're not even from Mexico."

"Shut up," Pepito replied, "At least I was wake."

"You passed out about two seconds after he did," Another, familiar female voice said. Waking into view, still playing a Game Slave, was Gaz. The purple haired girl didn't look enthusiastic or pleased.

"Shut up bitch, I wasn't talkin' to you," Pepito sneered. Gaz shut off the Slave and placed it into her hoody's pocket. She went up to his bed, and punched him down in the gut. He jerked back, coughing and trying to gain breath.

"That's one way to shut him up," Squee said nonchalantly. Gaz turned to him, and Squee wasn't sure if she was looking at him or not. Her squinted eyes prevented any but the smallest emotional change. She shrugged, and went back to a seeable wall and leaned.

"Uhh, Nurse's office?" Squee asked, making conversation. Gaz pulled out the Game Slave and flipped its switch.

"Yep," she replied, boredly.

"How'd we get here?"

"I dragged your asses here."

"Uh-huh."

"This is the four time you fucks have interrupted my game."

"Ah," So that's how he got on the cot bed thing. What was up with that weird dream too? Another Squee, something that has to do with Johnny or did, and it was going to happen to him?

It was just a dream right?

A feeling came from the pit of Squee's stomach. Something will happen, possibly soon or something. What ever it is, it had apparently set Dearest Nny off on his murderous rampage.

Is that it? Squee will become like Johnny? God, he felt so confused. He knew he was fucked up now, just think what would happen if murderous rage became just that. Manslaughter, murder, homicide, with insanity, craziness, and all that wonderful shit.

Squee laid back down. No point in thinking about it, he didn't need to bring up the past at the moment. Though it did leave that forever going question, Where was Johnny anyway? Its not like Squee really missed the screams next door, but still.

"Where's the nurse anyway?" Squee asked monotoned.

"Elsewhere," Gaz replied, pushing buttons on the Slave.

"I can see that," Squee said, "Where?"

"Not here."

Squee sighed. There were no getting answers for anything was there?

**-777-**

After Squee had removed the bandages around his head, the nurse kicked them out when she got back, and the first day of school went by quick enough. Interesting as it was, Squee would have to deal with another fun-fucking-tabulos day tomorrow.

Squee and Pepito walked out the school like many other teenagers. Some got in cars and drove away like maniacs, some stood and talked, others walked. It was practically chaos, but Squee was used to that from the last school.

As they walked down the stairs, Squee spotted her. Gaz, still attached to her Game Slave, was walking in the opposing direction. Squee watched her and…

SLIP! THUNK! Thump, thump thump thump… CRASH!

Huh, he never knew the sidewalk could be that clean. There was laughter as Squee picked himself up. More fun for the funhouse, fucking teenagers. The laughter died down as Squee and Pepito walked away from the school.

The walk was long and silent.

"So," Pepito broke that silence, "You headed to my place?"

"No," Squee replied, still focus on the dirty sidewalk.

"Actually going to try for your house this time," Pepito said in a mock surprise, and then mellowed out, "Your funeral."

Yeah, Squee's funeral.

Squee by passed Pepito's house as his anti-Christ friend walked to it. There were no goodbyes or prayers, and Squee was fine with that. The skeleton-of-a-teen continued to walk down the roughed up sidewalks and by passing houses that were falling apart. The occasional car sped down the road going a hundred miles per hour.

Squee stopped at a certain house. Number 775. His home. The place had gotten old and some of its wood was literally pealing off the house. He figured in a few years the house would be labeled condemned. He stood at the end of the sidewalk that led to the front door.

He turned his head to the neighbor's house, the small shack like building was still running dark and no car was parked in its driveway. Squee expected that, Johnny hadn't been back for years. Why should he come back now?

Taking a breath, Squee walked up to his house's door and turned its door knob. Surprisingly, the door opened with no protest and there was no yelling about who was at the front door inside. Squee considered that a good thing and walked inside with no problem.

The interior was covered with a thin layer of dust, which was expected. Squee ignored the creaking floor boards and walked up the stairs. His dad would be somewhere down stairs in his office, typing life away on that computer of his. Squee's mother, on the other hand, would probably be drugged up and laying in his parents' bed trying to remember how many feet she's got.

Up the stairs and down the hall, Squee found the closed door to his bedroom. He walked to it as the floor beneath him protested his thin weight. He opened the door, went inside and shut it.

His room hadn't changed much either. Mostly, it didn't have much besides the stuff that Squee was able to scavenge. A desk with paper scattered on it in the corner, his bed by the window, a nearly empty dresser in the corner and a tattered, creepy old teddy bear on the nightstand near his bed.

Squee dropped his backpack on his bed and looked at the bear. He remembered how Shmee used to talk to him years before and how scared he had been when the bear stopped talking and stopped appearing in his dreams.

He reached up and put a hand on his forehead. He had a headache to match a marching band. He pulled the hand down and found a smudge of blood on his palm. Shit, he'd have to get that cleaned. He sighed, got up from his bed, went and opened the bedroom door, and left.

The upstairs bathroom wasn't too far from Squee's own room. He opened the white door and slide inside. He remembered the first time he met Johnny, the murderer was looking for disinfectants in this same bathroom.

Squee walked to the sink and turned on the water, he splashed his face with the cold liquid. The small wound on his forehead stung. He let the water run as his head dripped the water drops off. He eventually turned off the water and left the bathroom, his hair's bangs still dripping wet.

While the small wound on his forehead stopped hurting, Squee's headache grew as he reached his bedroom. It was a fucking carnival by the time he landed in his bed.

Squee curled up, holding his head. He felt like his eyes would pop out any second, or his head would finally cave in on its self. His bony fingers dug into his scalp, and he twisted and turned in the bed. He was hearing his heartbeat, and cried out. He couldn't stand his head hurting like that.

He fell out of the bed, and the pain that came with that was nothing compared to his head. His brain could be on fire or melting for all he knew. He scrambled on the floor, trying anything to either stop his internal hurting or distract himself. He felt nauseous.

Squee started slamming his head against the floor, grunting as the impacts grew harder and faster.

And like a switch or someone cutting a cord, it stopped. Squee sprawled out on the floor. He was still conscious, but it was like his body had gone completely numb. He tried to move anything, nothing responded. Then something was on his chest.

"Thank God," it said, "I thought that'd never end."

Squee felt his stomach churned. The thing on his chest, spoke in his voice. If his voice was peppier and not as stiff or apathetic. The thing went to his collar bone, and Squee got a good look at it.

It was a black bunny with large glowing white eyes and very large ears. Squee believed that if anyone would look at it, they'd think it cute and then the bunny would eat their face or something. The small animal's front legs were stubby, and its head roundish. The animal tilted its head when it looked at Squee.

"Hello there!" The bunny said, though no mouth or lips moved. Infact, Squee didn't even think this thing had a mouth, "I can tell we're going to be best friends."

Squee weakly and groggily moved his mouth. He intended to say "Fuck you" but it came out as "fudgg jew". The bunny rolled off his collar bone and hopped to his face. The animal was so small, it could stand in Squee's hand.

"That's not very nice," the bunny said, Squee caught sit of something reflective on the creature's back, "We can't have a bad start, can we?"

A small paw touched Squee's face, and he found that he could moved freely again. Squee's adrenaline spiked and he grabbed the black rabbit and stood up, breathing hard. The bunny did not struggle in his grip, but looked at him with those glowing eyes.

"And what pray tell do you think you're going to do?" It asked Squee, "Whatever you might be thinking will not work. I am in control."

The bunny's paw tapped Squee's hand, and it went limp, releasing the tiny thing. Squee held his numb hand, trying anything to make it move again. Nothing worked. The bunny climbed up on his bed post, and looked at Squee expectantly.

"What the hell are you?" Squee asked the creature, his eyes narrowed. The bunny scratched itself behind the ears with one of its back legs.

"What am I? I'm your friend," The bunny said, "And the only thing I ask in return is your cooperation."

"Bullshit," Squee spat. Small Black Bunnies don't just appear out of nowhere and start thinking about friendship. Small black bunnies shouldn't appear at all. Hell, animals shouldn't even talk. Especially not in Squee's voice.

"I had a feeling just talking wouldn't work for you," the bunny sighed. It hopped on to Squee's bed and climbed up on his backpack to look up at Squee.

"You don't have a choice," it said, serious, "This is not a democracy, there's no voting or say in the matter. You will have to listen to me or face the consequences. No loop hole or anything will get you out of this, Todd."

"And I say fuck you," Squee countered.

"You may have been able to resist us before, but don't count on that now," the bunny said, "Besides, there are more important things than me or you at the moment."

Squee's hate grew. He didn't like how this fucking thing had appeared and demanded his loyalty. He wasn't about to drop down and serve this thing.

"I regret to inform you… that there is a lot more things at stake than the others," the bunny said, sounding truly regretful, "You seem to be a… special case. Well, there's a first time for everything I guess."

Squee walked next to his bed. He was intending to grab and choke the little bastard, when the bunny made tsking sounds.

"Now we can't have that."

Something clicked in the back of Squee's mind. His eyes widened as he fell over and found darkness in his vision.


	7. Chapter 6: Its no Shoggoth

**Chapter 6 - Its no Shoggoth**

Squee came to school, lagging in movement and stiff in the joints. He had ended up waking up early in the morning by that fucking rabbit thing running around in his bedroom. Ever since yesterday afternoon when the thing appeared, Squee had been feeling weird, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He walked inside, teenagers of all grades were talking or walking around in the halls. The school bell hadn't even buzzed yet. Squee had been thinking on the way here what to call that rabbit thing, and something popped into his head.

Inlé.

Squee wasn't sure were the name came from, but it seemed to fit enough. He got to his locker, unlocked it and threw his backpack inside. Pepito appeared next to him.

"What's u-" he stopped mid sentence. When Squee slammed his locker closed, Pepito grabbed on him and spun him around so that he faced the hell spawn. Pepito looked intently into Squee's eyes.

"Something's wrong," he said, dropping the Mexican accent, "You're off."

"Off on what?" Squee said irritable. He wasn't in the mood right now, and Pepito touching him was pissing him off real fast. Pepito grabbed Squee's head, and held it to his ear. He heard Squee's yell as the skeleton-boy pushed him off violently.

"The Fuck is your problem?" Squee yelled. Pepito gained his balance, but still stared at Squee like he was trying to find something that had changed.  
"Don't tell me," Pepito muttered and then asked aloud, "Squee, did anything strange happen when you got home? Like something you didn't understand?"

"Plenty of fucking things," Squee said, and the school bell rang.

"You can tell me on our way to first period," Pepito said, and the two walked from their lockers.

"Something appeared," Squee explained, "Shit, I don't know. It looked like some sort of black bunny, and it talked."

"A talking black bunny appeared," Pepito repeated, but he wasn't being funny nor did he sound like he didn't believe Squee. The guy was listening to every word like he was a detective trying to get the truth.

"It didn't just talk," Squee continued, "It talked in MY voice. And it said things."

"What kind of things?"  
"Things like how it was in control or that if I didn't follow I'd get the consequences," Squee replied. Pepito's eye widened, either in horror or revelation, Squee couldn't tell.

"This is bad," he said, "This is very very bad."

"Yeah, no shit."

"No, You don't understand," Pepito tried to explain, "You're a-"

"Look, lets talk about this later," Squee didn't know what made him so uncomfortable. Maybe it was because Pepito was talking in his true voice, the rasping dark thing that sends chills up the spine or possibly the sudden concern for him about that weird rabbit thing.

Squee opened the door to Ms. Ding's classroom before Pepito could protest. He walked quickly to his desk and sat down.

"Heya good buddy!" He heard Keef behind him. Squee felt like burning the little asshole a live, and thought about how good it'd feel. The bell rang again, and class started. More history from Ms. Ding, who was still smiling that psychotic smile and those wide crazy eyes.

Squee started feeling sicker during the duration of the class. His head pounded, and he felt nauseous. He understood that he hadn't had breakfast this morning or dinner last night, but that was kind of routine. He didn't know what had brought this on.

He looked at his hand, it was shaking for some odd reason. Then something moved on his skin. No. Not on his skin. IN his skin. He looked at his arm, and there he saw it. Something tentacle like underneath the skin and possibly on the muscle or that. He felt it move and wiggle, making him feel sick.

It wasn't just the arm either, he felt those things moving around his rib cage and his spin, in his other arm and his legs. The feeling was too much. He stood up in his desk.

"Yes Squee?" Ms. Ding asked. Squee didn't look up at her.

"I need to see the nurse," Squee said quickly and rushed out of the room before the teacher could reply or anyone could see him. At first, he intended to go to the nurse, but he instead fled into the nearest boy's bathroom.

The bathroom was dirtier than any part of the school, with graffiti written in black and red ink on the walls, profanities carved into the tiles and into the stalls' metals. Squee went to the sink, leaning into it with the chance that he might puke up anything. After some failed attempts, Squee looked up into the mirror.

"Hello Todd!"

Squee almost jumped out of his skin. Looking at him through the cracked, dirty mirror was the Other Squee. Other Squee was smiling a tooth filled grin.

"You again," Squee said weakly. This just wasn't his day.

"Yep," Other Squee said from behind the mirror, "But lets not talk about that right now."

"Can't you fucking leave me alone," Squee said, glaring at the Other Squee in the mirror. Other Squee's smile fell.

"Right now I can't afford that," Other Squee explained, "That process I talked about has already started and you're feeling the effects. Sorry if I couldn't do anything now like I could before."

"What process?" Squee stomach lurched forward again to hurl, but nothing came out. He used the sink for balance.

"The thing Johnny went through," Other Squee said, "Though you're a bit… special."

"So I've been told," Squee muttered, catching his breath.

"Do you know that Johnny harbored a little monster in his house?" Other Squee asked. Squee wiped his mouth, though there was nothing to wipe off.

"No."

"Well, this little monster was behind a wall in his house," Other Squee explained, making gestures behind the mirror, "and he had to keep it there no matter what."

"How the fuck does this apply to me?" Squee demanded.

"I'm not done yet," Other Squee said sternly, "Now he kept this monster by painting the wall with blood. Effectively feeding the monster and keeping it at bay."

That's why Johnny killed people? To feed some wall monster? Squee always thought that it was either mindless fun or to prove a point. Then again, this story sounds like bullshit.

"There is no way I'm gonna fucking believe that," Squee said, defiantly. Other Squee sighed beyond the mirror.

"Look you're just going to have to trust me on this," Other Squee said, "You have one too. Its been developing for a long time and now it finally awakening."

"That's a bunch of bullshit!" Squee yelled.

"Coming from the same little kid who had visits from aliens in the night!" Other Squee yelled back, "Don't you remember? The aliens, the ghost, the giant dust mite, all those things you feared as a kid, what is so unbelievable that you're becoming just like Johnny?"

"I'm NOT LIKE NNY!" Squee yelled, "I'm Me God damn it!"

The sickening feeling returned, and he felt the things under his skin again, moving and swirling around. Squee became weak in the knees and used the sink as support. The things were moving and going to different places now, his neck, his fingers, even his stomach.

"See?" Other Squee said, "The reason that you're the special case, is that your little monster is inside of you."

Squee gagged, holding his neck and feeling a tentacle worm thing move around. Inside him, that single phrase was horrible just in itself.

"Eventually, you'll be force to ease its hunger," Other Squee explained, strangely calm, "Otherwise, you won't live to see it rip through you like you were merely a cocoon."

Squee pulled himself back up, and forced himself to look at Other Squee. But Other Squee was gone, replaced with the pale thin face of Squee himself. His eyes looked glassy, his face unnaturally pale even for him. The things under his skin have stopped. For how long though?

**-777-**

Squee ended up skipping his next classes, even Jacklin's. He spent his time in the bathroom, trying like hell to figure out what he was going to do and how. From what little he knew, Johnny had a monster too, just behind a wall. He fed it by painting the wall with blood. Does that mean that Squee would have to bath in blood?

He shivered at the thought of any human fluid even touching him. Another school bell rang, for lunch this time. Squee figured that Pepito would know what to do, the hell spawn was talking about stuff like this. He could help.

Squee walked out of the bathroom and followed the flood of students on their way to lunch. He easily disappeared into the crowds, and later broke off and was in the lunchroom. He looked around, and saw Pepito in a table in the back.

But instead of going to Pepito like he had planned, Squee sat down at a different table this time. No lunch or anything. There wasn't anyone on the table. Wrong, there was one other person. Someone with jaw-like purple hair and a Game Slave.

Gaz certainly didn't seem pleased. She was sneering at her game, pushing the buttons harder than was probably necessary. Squee moved closer to her, slowly. He could hear her grinding teeth. Suddenly, she slammed the Slave down and jumped up.

"GOD DAMNIT!" She screamed into the air. Squee got up calmly, and walked over to where the Slave was. It had a game over screen on it. Squee looked to make sure that Gaz wasn't watching or anything, she was fuming in a different direction, and he picked up the game slave.

In several quick successions, he did a button combo and then pressed start. The game reappeared, the character inside had gained five extra lives. He paused the game, walked over to a still enraged Gaz and put the Slave front of her.

She looked at, or rather appeared to look at it, before snatching it and returned playing. Squee was about to walk away, when a strong, thin hand grabbed his arm. It was Gaz, grabbing him while playing the game with one hand. How that was possible, he didn't know.

She literally dragged him back to the table, and made him park it right next to her. She didn't look up once even when both hands on the Game Slave. Squee got a feeling that she wasn't about to let him go at anytime.

The lunch bell rang, ending lunch. He still wasn't sure if he could move, but then Gaz got up, shutting off the game. She pulled from her hoody a note card and gave it to Squee. It had an address and phone number on it.

"Come over tonight," She said, though it was more like a command, "Don't be late."

And she walked away.


End file.
